There are places I remember
by spacemonkey766
Summary: Danny Messer and Don Flack’s lives entwined long before either joined the force, and their friendship has defined a big part of themselves. a short story about the past and the present


_**There are places I remember...**_

_** a Danny and Flack Friendship fic**_

_**summary**_: Danny Messer and Don Flack's lives entwined long before either joined the force, and their friendship has defined a big part of themselves.

**genre**: General & Friendship

**rated**: PG-13 (just cause of the swearing)

**content warnings**: swearing, mention of child abuse

**author note**: i just love these boys together and the friendship they have. it's definitely my favorite part of the show. I wanted to explore the idea that maybe this bond they have could have started a long time ago...so this is my little experiment :)

**disclaimer**: All characters in this story belong to CBS and the dude with the amazing vision that created CSI: NY. The characters are not mine, as much as i would like to hold onto them and keep them to do my bidding...it is just not possible 3

* * *

Danny's leg twitched nervously, his foot bouncing up and down on the the floor, as he sat in one of the chairs in the lab hallway. He gently prodded at the tender skin surrounding his left eye, wincing at the pain from the pressure he applied on the already forming bruise.

It was only an hour ago he and Don were interrogating the lead suspect in the murder case they were working with Stella. Danny and Don had been questioning the suspectl; a big burly man who looked like he was ready to snap at any given moment, while Mac and Stella were watching the behind the mirror. When the interrogation got heated, the guy did snap, flipping the table over, knocking both Danny and Don to the floor. Within the seconds, the suspect was on top of Danny, using him as a human punching bag.

Once Don had gotten his bearings, he rushed over to Danny, struggling to wrestle the man off his friend. Mac and Stella ran into the room and with Mac's help, Don was able to pull the guy off, still kicking and arms swinging, as two uniformed officers came in. Stella rushed to Danny's side as the four men tried to restrain the violent suspect and usher him to a holding cell.

An hour later brought Danny to where he was now, sitting nervously, glancing toward his boss' office, watching the older man shout over the phone. Danny leaned forward, his forearms on his legs, clasping his hands together over his knees. With a sigh, Danny hung his head and began to count all the times he'd been in some kind of trouble in this place, trying to remember if there was a limit and if so, had he finally reached it.

The sound of footsteps approaching brought Danny out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Flack and Stella coming towards him. Don moved to sit in the chair beside him while Stella stood in front of her boys, arms folded over her chest.

"Dirtbag's saying I provoked him and kicked him under the table and that's why he snapped. He's claiming police brutality and that he was just defendin' himself," Danny provided to his friends' unasked question. "Mac was arguing with his lawyer before and I think he's on the phone with the head of Internal Affairs now."

"This is bullshit," Flack grumbled, leaning back in his chair. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles as he folded his arms behind his head.

"It'll all blow over, Danny. We all saw how it really went down," Stella reassured, her voice confident. Danny just nodded silently.

"Hey," Don said, looking at Danny. When his friend didn't respond, Don nudged his legs with his own. Danny turned his head to look back at his friend. "Kinda like how we first met," Don smirked slightly, Danny letting out a small laugh.

"Yeah," Danny responded. "Both times." Flack too let out a laugh, Stella just looking on in amused confusion.

Don looked over at Mac's office to see if the older detective was still yelling at the phone. The man could keep his composure at the worst of times, but when it came to his people, he could kill with a glare.

Stella and Danny followed Don's eyes and also looked over to the glass-walled office and the three of them saw Mac holding the phone against his shoulder, pointing to Danny then waving him in before bringing the phone back to his ear. The young CSI sighed before slowly standing up, wincing in pain as the action jarred his bruised and aching body.

"Show time," Danny said, heading towards the door to Mac's office. Stella and Don watched him enter reluctantly. When the door closed behind him, Stella replaced him in the chair. The casual position Don had been sitting in as an attempt to relax Danny immediately changed when Danny had left them. He adopted his friend's previous stance, leaning forward, his forearms over his thighs, clasping his hands and letting them hang between his knees.

Stella just watched Don watching Danny through the glass as he approached Mac's desk as the other man hung up the phone. Their conversation was soundless to Flack and Stella but the expressions and body language of the two men spoke volumes.

"He's going to be fine, Flack. The bruises on his ego will last longer than the bruises on his body," Stella half-heartedly joked, placing a friendly hand on Don's knee, shaking it a little bit. She knew he was worried about his friend; she was too. Stella also knew that Don wanted nothing more than to storm into Mac's office and yell at the department head. Or even more, go down to the holding cell and beat the crap out of their suspect.

"I'm just sick of seeing him in trouble. Sick of seeing bruises on him. Guy can't catch a break," Don turned to face Stella, a sad half smile on his face. "Ya know," Don started, "the first time I met him was kinda like this. Waiting at the police station, bruises on his face and arms," Don paused and thought for a moment, "and the second time."

"Danny had bruises on him the first day you met him here at work?" Stella asked.

"Probably," Don chuckled, "but we first met way before workin' here."

"You guys knew each other before you both started here?" Stella was surprised, never knowing that about her two colleagues.

"Yeah," Don nodded. "It was a long time ago."

* * *

**{March 1986}**

A young boy, who couldn't be more than nine years old, with short black hair and clear blue eyes, strolled out of the mens room and headed back to the reception area. His father had told him to wait there while he talked with his chief real quick.

Donnie Flack Jr. knew his way around the precinct. He'd been here hundreds of times, knew every officer. As he came close to the reception desk he saw a smaller boy about the same age, sitting in the chair he was sitting in before he left to go to the bathroom.

The boy had short, dirty blonde hair sticking up at every angle. His black AC/DC shirt looked worn, much like his jeans and his dirty black and white high-top converse.

Donnie thought that his mother would never let him leave the house like that. Donnie looked down at his fresh looking navy polo t-shirt, jeans, and his own clean navy and white converse. His clothes were always pressed and the holes patched up. He was jealous of the other boy. Taking a hand to his hair, he pulled his fingers through it, mussing it up before walking over and sitting down in the chair next to the boy. Donnie sat for a few minutes in silence as he watched the other boy stare down at his own swinging feet.

"I like your sneakers," Donnie eventually spoke. The smaller boy lifted his head to look at him.

"Yours too," he smiled slightly back. Donnie noticed the boy had a bruise on the side of his face. Looking at the boy's arms he saw more bruises.

"What happened?" Donnie couldn't help asking. His mother was always telling him he asked too many questions but his father insisted it meant he was a good detective.

"Nothing," the other kid said, folding his arms and holding them close to his stomach, averting his eyes back to his feet.

"You can tell me," Donnie said, ducking his head to look at the boy's face. "I won't say anything." The other boy looked up at him, seemingly trying to determine whether or not he could trust him.

"My dad came home early from his job really angry," he spoke quietly. "I got in his way."

"Your dad did this?" Donnie questioned, obviously surprised.

"Yeah, but it wasn't too bad this time," the boy reassured. "My uncle came over and stopped him. He's a cop."

"My dad doesn't hit me when he's angry. But he's a cop like your uncle," Donnie said.

"Well that's why. Cops are the good guys," Danny said in the a tone that was all but missing the 'duh'. "They save people, not hurt people. I don't care what my dad says about them."

"So that's why you're here?" Donnie asked. "You're dad's getting in trouble?"

"Yeah. My uncle brought us in, told me to wait here and then we were going to see the doctor."

"That stinks."

"It sucks!" The other boy crosses his over his chest. Donnie just stared, shocked at the boy's words. If he said that at home he'd get his comics taken away. "What 'bout you?"

"Waiting for my dad. Then we're goin' to the Ranger game," Donnie said proudly, reaching into the backpack he had set down earlier, and pulled out his white 'Maloney' jersey.

"That's awesome!" the blonde boy exclaimed. "I like hockey but I like baseball too. I'm gonna be a baseball player when I get old."

"I wanna play hockey but I'll probably be a cop like my dad," Donnie said. "I promise to come see you play."

"I'll give you a jersey with my name on it if you do," the boy promised.

"That'd be so cool," Donnie agreed. He stuck out his small hand towards the other boy. "Donnie Flack."

"Danny Messer," the boy slapped Donnie's palm.

"Donnie, you ready kiddo?" A man asked as he came to stand where the two boys sat.

"Yeah, Dad," Don smiled, standing up and grabbing his backpack. "Bye, Danny."

"Bye, Donnie. See ya around," Danny waved as he watched the dark haired boy follow is father out of the precinct.

"What happened to your hair," Don Flack senior asked, ruffling his son's hair.

"It's cooler, Dad," Donnie groaned, pushing his dad's hand away. He looked up as his father hailed a cab. "Hey Dad?"

"Yeah, son."

"That kid back there said his Dad hurt him," Donnie told. "What's gonna happen to him?"

"Well," Don senior started. "If he's got a mom he'll stay with her while the dad goes to jail." The cab pulled over and the father and son climbed in.

After the older Flack told the driver to head to Madison Square Garden, he looked down at his son, noticing the look of concern on the young boys face as he looked up at him.

"I'll tell ya what, kiddo," Don Flack said, putting a hand on his son's knee. "I know the boy's uncle. He's a good cop and I know he'll take good care of him. But if it makes you feel better, I'll keep tabs on him."

"Thanks, dad," Don smiled up at his father, before turning his head to look out the window as they made their way to the arena.

* * *

**{July 1992}**

Don Flack ran a hand through his shaggy black hair as he entered his father's precinct. He strode over to the front desk, the fan on top of it blowing air against his shorts and tshirt clad body.

"Hey, Donnie," Lillian, the receptionist, greeted the sixteen year old boy.

"Hey, Lil," Don smiled. "My dad here?"

"No, sweetie. He's working a case. He just left about..." The rest of her statement was cut off as the loud bang of a door slamming against the wall as it was flung open interrupted their conversation.

"Danny! Get back here!" a voice shouted from a room in the back of the bull pen as a boy around Don's age came storming out. He was followed by a detective Don recognized as Lorenzo.

"Yeah. No thanks," the boy shouted back as he made his way across the floor towards the exit. The officer caught up with him and grabbed Danny by the wrist.

"Danny, I'm just worried about you. I don't want you following in your father and brother's footsteps," he said, lowering his voice when he noticed most of the precinct starting at them.

"Look, Uncle Frank. I'm fine," Danny shook his uncle's grasp away and lifted his black tank top over his head. He spread his arms out and spun in place slowly. "No tat, no entry date. I'm not a fuckin' Tanglewood boy,"

"I believe you, Danny," Frank spoke, "I do. And I'm sorry but you're my sister's kid. You're my nephew and my godson, Danny, and I want more for you than the life your brother and father chose."

Don noticed the bruised torso of the boy standing in front of him. And judging by the look on the officer's face, so did he.

"He hittin' you again?" Frank asked, anger starting to show on his face.

"I can handle him," Danny sighted, pulling the tank top back over his head, letting it fall in place over his slim body. "I can handle him and I can handle the T-boys. I can handle my own shit."

"Fine. But the second you can't or you get in too deep Danny you call me," Lorenzo pointed at the boy. "Don't wait till you can't pull yourself out." Danny just nodded before turning and walking out the precinct doors.

Don wasn't sure what compelled him to follow the boy. Something seemed familiar about him, something Don could relate to. He gave a curt wave goodbye to the receptionist and jogged out the doors, searching for the kid.

He spotted him to the right, leaning against the brick wall of the police station. The boy had his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his eyes closed and head bowed.

Don looked at him thoughtfully, suddenly remembering where he'd seen the boy before. Making a decision he strode over to where Danny stood, stopping to stand in front of him.

"Nice shoes."

Danny lifted his head, opening his eyes to look up at who just spoke to him. He stared at him for a few moments for his eyes softened in recognition.

"Had a growth spurt I see," Danny commented, eliciting a laugh from Don. Back when he was younger, Don was a small kid, only slightly taller than the small frame Danny had been when they first met at age nine. But now, at sixteen, Don was about 5'9", towering a good four inches over the other kid.

"C'mon," Don tapped the other boys arm and started walking away. Danny wasn't sure what compelled him to follow the other boy. He felt comfortable around him, remembering feeling that at their first meeting almost seven years ago.

So Danny followed and the two walked side by side, not sure where they were going. Both just seemed content in feeling safe and comfortable with the other.

* * *

**{Present Day}**

"You and Danny have known each other since you were nine?" Stella smiled, looking incredulously at Don.

"Yeah, I guess," Don replied. "After meeting again the second time we stayed in touch. Played ball together. I kept him out of trouble and he got me into a little harmless trouble. Went to the academy and next thing I know we're both assigned the same post as beat cops."

"Wow," Stella shook her head. "Looks like you were destined to be friends."

"As lame as that sounds, seems that way, don't it," Don attention shifted when the door to Mac's office opened. Both Mac and Danny came over to where Stella and Don sat.

"Flack, can you make sure Danny gets home and stays there and rests?" Mac asked, giving Danny a little push towards the hallway.

"No problem, Mac," Flack nodded, standing up from the chair. "C'mon, Danno. Let's go ice that black eye before it ruins that pretty little face o' yours." Flack grabbed Danny by the arm and started to pull him along.

"Ha freakin' ha," Danny sneered, shaking Don's hand off his arm. "I'd still be better looking than you ya fugly bastard."

Stella and Mac just watched and laughed as their bantered continued down the hall. They watched Danny push Flack to the side before grabbing his arm in pain. Don laughed as he brought a hand to ruffle the other man's hair as they turned the corner, out of their boss' line of sight.

"I don't know what they would do without each other," Mac smiled before turning back to his office.

"I don't know think they would either," Stella smiled, staring at the hall where the two men had been before she followed Mac, not even entertaining the idea of Don Flack without Danny Messer and the other way around.


End file.
